


Derek Jr.

by Literally_No_One_Cares



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Canon-typical swearing, Getting Together, Home Economics Projects as Bonding Exercises, M/M, Minor character death(?), These Boys Can't Get Their Shit Together (TM)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 11:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8712766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literally_No_One_Cares/pseuds/Literally_No_One_Cares
Summary: "Bitty made Nursey and Dex take care of a flour baby when they just wouldn’t get along"





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains my favorite NurseyDex trope: Nursey writing poetry about Dex

“What the fuck, Dex, that’s--”

  
“ _Motherfucker_ \--why? Why would you even--”

  
“You're not listening to me, Poinde--”

  
“I'm not listening? You never fucking listen to me, you fucking douchecanoe--”

  
“What the hell kind of insult is douchecanoe?”

  
“Shut UP, Nurse--”

  
“Boys!”

  
Dex and Nursey look up. They’re sitting at the kitchen table, yelling about...what are they yelling about? Did it have something to do Nursey’s journal or something? Bitty had seen it, left lying on the couch, and apparently Dex had found it? But Bitty can't see why that led to, well, this.

  
“If y’all’re going to fight, don't do it in my kitchen. If my cake falls in because of you, they'll never find the bodies,” Bitty says terrifyingly sweetly.

  
“Cake?” Nursey asks, choosing to ignore the threat to his life.

  
“It’s Cait’s birthday. Chowder asked me to make her a cake, and I couldn't exactly say no to my son,” Bitty explains. “And like I said, if it falls in, you're both very dead.”

  
“Yes mom,” Dex mumbles. “But that doesn't change this. Tell me what this fucking means, Nurse.”

  
“You're this mad, and you don't even understand it?” Nursey whisper-yells. Bitty is eyeing them both disapprovingly.

  
“What does it even matter? You wrote about me, without asking, and it makes me super uncomfortable.” Dex’s voice is threatening to raise again, so Bitty takes action.

  
Silently, he places a bag of flour on the table between them. The boys stop arguing, look at the flour, and then at Bitty.

  
“Did either of y’all take home economics in high school?” he questions.

  
Nursey shakes his head, while Dex grimaces and nods. He knows what Bitty’s about to do, and he already knows this is going to end badly. “Bitty, you can't expect--”

  
“I can expect whatever I want, William,” Bitty says, voice low. Dex is effectively horrified. “For the next week, this is your son. You two are going to take care of him, and take him everywhere you go. If you don't take him with you, you have to arrange a babysitter. If you drop him, you fail, and I'll be devising your punishment.”

  
“Does he have a name?” Nursey asks.

  
“He’s your son, you name him,” Bitty huffs. “Now get out of my kitchen and take care of your child.”

  
Dex and Nursey both stare at the sack of flour. Dex is the one who scoops it up and holds it close, like an actual baby, and walks out of the room. Nursey nearly takes out two different chairs standing up to follow him. He stumbles out of the kitchen and then immediately turns back around to retrieve his (once again) forgotten poetry journal.

  
Nursey catches up to Dex outside of the Haus. “Poindexter, where are you going?”

  
Dex stops and turns around. Aaaaand he's mad. Nursey just can't stop fucking things up, can he? “I'm going to my dorm. You'll just drop him, so you're not getting your hands on my baby. My partner for this project in high school screwed me over. I'm not going to let you do the same thing.”

  
“Dex, it's a bag of flour,” Nursey says flatly. “How hard can it be?”

  
“No, Nurse. He's my son, for a week, not flour. And I know you. You're klutzy as fuck, and forgetful. You'll drop him, or forget him somewhere. Just because you're incompetent doesn't mean I want to fail this. Bitty’s serious about this, so I'm being serious too. You should try it sometime,” Dex hisses.

  
“Ok, I'll be serious. I'll go with you to your dorm and we can watch it--him, together,” Nurse suggests. “Have you already named him?”

  
Dex rubs his temple with the hand that's not clutching their flour baby to his chest. “Fine. Whatever. No, I haven't named him yet.”

  
“I was thinking maybe Derek Jr.?” Nursey admits.

  
Dex rolls his eyes. “No?”

  
“We can call him DJ!” Nursey insists. “Come on, it's cute. DJ Nurse-Poindexter. Poindexter-Nurse? Or maybe we don't hyphenate. He can just be DJ Poindexter. Why’s your last name so long?”

  
“I didn't get to choose how long my last name is, Nurse,” Dex groans. “I am going to regret this. I am going to regret this and I blame Bitty.”

  
“But you're not saying no to DJ Poindexter?” Nursey asks carefully.

  
“Ok, his name can be DJ Poindexter,” Dex sighs.

  
Nursey smiles. It's a rare thing, getting his way with Dex, so he's pretty proud of himself. They walk on in silence, ignoring the people that look at them weird. It's a pretty strange image, two very large college sophomores walking together, inexplicably carrying a bag of flour like it's precious. Of course, everyone on campus knows the hockey team is a breed of its own, so maybe they’re not too confused by it.

* * *

“What are you doing.”

  
Nursey has grabbed a few different color highlighters off Dex’s desk and is reaching for Derek Jr. “If he's a baby, he needs a face. Come on, Dex. A little marker isn't going to hurt him.”

  
Dex stares at him incredulously for a solid seven seconds. “Fine, but use sharpies, not highlighters,” he says, pulling open his desk drawer.

  
Nursey picks out a red one, a black one, and a brown one, and puts back the highlighters. He thinks for a second, and picks up an orange highlighter.

  
Dex looks at him questioningly, but doesn't say anything. He lets Derek hold DJ, but he's still anxious.

  
Nurse gets to work. He draws the outline of the eyes and mouth in black, then colors the mouth in red. He uncaps the brown sharpie, using it to put dots underneath the eyes. Lastly, he uses the orange highlighter to color Derek Jr.’s irises and eyebrows.

  
“There. He looks like his dad,” Nursey declares, turning DJ around for Dex to see.

  
Dex holds back his grin. It's kind of cute, but he won't let Derek know that. “Why not give him green eyes so he can look like you?”

  
“He may be Derek Jr., but he's your son too. Besides, his brand logo is red. So obviously, he's going to have red hair. That means he looks like you,” Nursey tells him.

  
“Oh my god,” Dex mutters. “You're still not off the hook for writing about me in your dumb book.”

  
“Did you even read it, or did you just look at the title and get pisssd?” Derek asks.

  
Dex sits down on his bed and looks away. “Why would I want to read a whole poem about how much you hate me?” His ears are bright red, and he's very focused on his fingers.

  
“Dex, that's not what it's about,” Nursey laughs dryly. He pulls out Dex’s desk chair and sits there, putting DJ down on the desk itself.

  
“Then what is it?” Dex demands.

  
“Hey, don't yell in front of our child,” Nursey teases. “If you want to know, you should just read it. I don't think I can say it out loud and get it right. That's the reason I started writing, so I could find the perfect words that wouldn't come out when I tried to talk.”

  
“Just leave your dumb journal here, I'll read it later,” Dex says, defeated.

  
“Dexy, I'm not leaving it here. I'm spending the night! I don't want my child to grow up being passed from house to house.”

  
“I'm glad I get a say in who sleeps in my dorm,” Dex deadpans. “I'm not reading it with you here.”

  
“Then you'll just have to read it next week,” Nursey says decidedly. “Until then, we have to play nice, for the sake of our son. DJ deserves a happy family.”

  
“Whatever.” Dex is quiet for a moment. “You're sleeping on the floor.”

  
“Dexy. I can't sleep on the floor. What will DJ think? Do you want our son to think we're getting divorced?”

  
“We’re not fucking ma--”

  
Derek puts his hands on either side of DJ. “William I don't know your middle name Poindexter! Little ears,” he hisses dramatically.

  
“Derek Jr. doesn't _have_ ears,” Dex points out.

  
“I can fix that,” Derek says, reaching for the black sharpie. He draws cartoon ears on both sides where his hands had been. “Now he really looks like his dad.”

  
“If Bitty doesn't kill you, I will.”

* * *

They do pretty well that first night. Dex, reluctantly, allows Derek to sleep in his bed, and they make a small bed for DJ out of a shoebox. The next morning, they take DJ to practice with them and let him sit on the bench, then Dex takes him to his morning classes. The flour parents meet for lunch and Dex, again, reluctantly, lets Derek take their son to his afternoon class.

  
Dex is a wreck all afternoon. He can't handle the suspense--he doesn't know if Derek Jr. will be in one piece the next time he sees him.

  
Dex goes to the Haus to wait, where they're celebrating Caitlin’s birthday. Bitty’s cake survived long enough for Dex to get a slice, and he doesn't know why he does it, but he saves some for Nursey, too.

  
The door opens, and Dex flies out of the kitchen and into the hallway. It's Nursey, and Derek Jr.

  
“Oh thank god you're ok I was so worried,” Dex gushes, forcibly removing DJ from Derek’s arms.

  
“Aw, Dexy, I missed you too,” Derek coos.

  
Dex slaps the back of his head. “I was talking to our son and you know it.”

  
“Chill. I'm just kidding, Poindorkster. Did I miss cake?” he asks as he walks into the kitchen with Dex and baby in tow.

  
“You did, but Dex saved you a piece,” Bitty tells him, pulling the slice from its hiding place in the microwave. It's gone quickly; hockey players can _eat_.

  
Chowder and Caitlin look at each other, then at Dex, and back at each other. “What’s up with the flour with Dex’s face drawn on it?” Caitlin inquires.

  
“Since the boys are having such a hard time getting along, I'm having them take care of a flour baby together for a week,” Bitty explains.

  
“He's cute! What’s his name? Can we babysit? Oh! Bitty! Can me and Cait have a baby too???” Chowder babbles.

  
“His name is Derek Malik Poindexter. Since he's Derek Jr., we decided to call him DJ,” Nursey says. “I guess you guys can babysit him sometime, if we need someone else to watch him.”

  
“Chris, we get along just fine, what do we need a flour baby for?” Caitlin giggles.

  
“Y’all's would have to be a sugar baby. I do need to keep _some_ flour,” Bitty corrects.

  
“Pleeeeeease?” Chowder whines, turning his puppy dog eyes on Caitlin. Anyone who knows Chris Chow knows he’s impossible to say no to, no matter what it is that he wants.

  
“Christopher,” Caitlin sighs, but Chowder doesn't back down. “Ok. Let's have a fake baby.”

  
Bitty presents them with a two pound bag of granulated sugar. “Congratulations, it's a girl.”

  
“Her name is Rose,” Chowder declares. “Unless you don't like that name, we can pick something different. I've just had the name Rose picked out for a baby since I was little. My mom used to watch our neighbor’s daughter and her name was Rose, and I really liked the name. But just because I like it doesn't mean it has to be her name. We could name her something completely different, like Jenna or Hazel or--”

  
“Chris, Rose is fine. Rose Chow,” Caitlin interrupts. “Because Rose Farmer sounds stupid.”

  
Chowder laughs. “Rose Chow! Welcome to the family. This is your Uncle Dex and your Uncle Nursey, and Grandma Bitty!”

  
“I can't believe it. I'm twenty years old and I already have two grandchildren,” Bitty chuckles, wiping at a fake tear. “Y’all better take good care of my grand babies!”

  
“Whoa, Bits, you're a grandma?” Lardo says as she appears in the doorway. “Wait, Cait, are you pregnant? Chris Chow am I an aunt?”

  
“Not exactly Lards.” Dex gestures to his flour sack child. “Meet Derek Jr. and Rose Chow.”

  
“I don't want to know,” Lardo murmurs. “Hi Derek Jr., hi Rose Chow, I’m your Auntie Lardo.”

  
“DJ is supposed to be helping Dexy and I get along better,” Derek tells her.

  
“That makes sense. He's pretty cute. I like the ears, that’s a nice touch. He looks like his dad. He's going to grow up to be a big strong hockey player someday,” Lardo says like she actually believes it. “Love the team bonding exercise, Bits. Maybe Ransom and Holster will want one too.”

  
“Hey Bits, if you're Rosie’s grandma, who’s her grandpa?” Chowder asks.

  
“Um? Duh, it's Jack,” Lardo answers for Bitty. “He's your dad and Bitty’s your mom.”

  
“You hear that DJ? Your grandpa’s a professional hockey player,” Derek whispers to the flour baby, making a show of leaning down and talking into its drawn-on ear.

  
“Ok, you're embarrassing. We're leaving now, Derek,” Dex decides. He sulks out of the kitchen, and Derek trips along behind him.

  
“So how long before they're dating? I've got fifty bucks on three more days.”

  
“Lardo!”

* * *

They do, eventually, need Chowder and Caitlin to babysit.

  
Dex is going to lose his mind if he's around Nursey any longer--it's been five days, five days of Derek Nurse in his bed and Derek Jr.’s life in jeopardy. Dex has never been so happy to hear that the dryer’s broken in his life.

  
“I can't keep DJ in the basement with me. That's no place for a baby,” Dex tells Chris when he takes DJ up to his room. “So I figured DJ and Rosie could have a play date.”

  
Chowder is, of course, ecstatic. “I'll take such good care of him Dex! Caitlin’s going to be here in like five minutes with Rosie, she's going to be so excited to play with her cousin DJ!! Thanks so much Dex!!!1!”

  
“Did you just...say the words exclamation point out loud four times? With a one in there?”

  
“Shhh Dex you're breaking the fourth wall and Caitlin’s almost here with Rosie!”

  
“What the fuck.”

  
Dex sets DJ on the desk and backs out of the room slowly. He has absolutely no idea what the fuck just happened and he's not sure he wants to know. He knows goalies are weird but seriously what the fuck just happened?

  
Confused, uncomfortable, and slightly afraid, Dex goes down to the basement so he can be emotionally mixed up elsewhere.

  
Chowder’s not the only one who’s got Dex’s emotions all scrambled. No, the other person who’s making Dex feel things is Nursey. Dex has, on a regular basis, two, maybe three emotions: mildly inconvenienced, kind of pissed, and Angry TM. But with Nursey hanging around even more than usual, he's all three, and in addition, he's also endeared, frustrated, and happy. Maybe not in that order. He's also having a Gay Crisis. It's not his first; Dex is very aware that he's gay, and demisexual; with Derek Nurse in his space constantly, however, he's also becoming aware of the fact that he's attracted to Nursey.

  
Which is a problem, because Nursey is out of his league and hates him.

  
He can only hide in the basement for so long before he has to rejoin the land of the living. He ascends the stairs quietly, listening to see who’s in the Haus. From what he can hear, everybody's home, and Caitlin’s still there.

  
“Dude, you know who’d make a cute couple?” Holster’s booming voice says. Dex pauses at the top of the stairs with the door closed. “My fellow D-men Nursey and Dex!”

  
Dex frowns. “Dex probably doesn't even like guys,” holy shit that's Nursey talking.

  
“Nah bro, I think Dex would totally date you,” Holster insists. “It could improve your chemistry on the ice, not that you even need it. Do you think we could make a play out of that?”

  
He's not sure, but he thinks Derek says ‘yeah right.’

  
“I think you guys are perfect for each other,” Caitlin agrees. “Isn't that right Rosie?”

  
“Y’all shouldn't talk about other people's love lives like this,” Bitty tuts disapprovingly.

  
“Bro, I've already got an idea for the perfect slow burn coffee shop AU,” Ransom says.

  
“It is not nice to write fanfiction about your friends,” Bitty warns. “If your friends find out sometimes they get very angry with you.” It sounds like Bitty’s talking from experience, but Dex doesn't know which side of the situation he's coming from.

  
“I one hundred percent consent to you writing about me. Dexy, however, will not. He screamed at me for writing a poem he didn't even read. I wish he _would_ read it, maybe then this flour baby thing wouldn't be necessary,” Derek sighs.

  
Dex has had enough. He opens the door loudly, the hinges creaking and the doorknob smacking against the wall.

  
“Dex! My dude! Got the dryer going?” Holster yells as soon as Dex is visible. It comes out very much like he's trying to tell everyone to stop talking about Dex.

  
“Yeah. You guys should really consider getting a new dryer though. I don't know how many more times I can fix it before it just dies,” Dex says like he didn't just hear all of his friends say he should be dating Nursey. He takes Derek Jr. back from Chowder and sits at the table. Beside Nursey.

  
“I still say you're doing it for dibs,” Derek needles him.

  
“Am not.”

  
“Dexy,” Nurse croons, “we all do stuff for dibs, bro.”

  
“Oh my god who’s dick did you suck for dibs?” Dex groans. He's not serious, but Ransom seems to take him very seriously.

  
“What? William that is not very nice why would you say--” Ransom sputters.

  
“Ransom’s,” Nursey cuts off. “I want the attic. It's chill though, like I don't expect his dibs just because I did something to get them. He could still give his dibs to someone else.”

  
Dex just learned a thing that he really didn't want to. He's not jealous, he's _not_. He and Nursey are pretty close though, bickering and obligatory flour baby or not, and that seems like the kind of thing you jokingly tell your friend about right after it happens. Or maybe tell them you're planning on doing and then they tell you to stop.

  
“What the fuck dude,” Dex says out loud, which he didn’t mean to do.

  
“Come on, don't be a jerk about this,” Nursey warns. “I know you're like, a poster child republican or whatever, but you don't need to be a dick right now.”

  
“You boys should not be talking like this is front of my grandson,” Bitty scolds, scooping up DJ into his arms. Chowder and Caitlin lie about hearing Lardo calling them upstairs and take Rose out of the room.

  
“I'm not a homophobe, if that's what you're insinuating,” Dex says flatly. “Suck as many dicks as you want. I don't care. At all.”

  
“There is a CHILD present,” Bitty hisses, pressing his hands over DJ’s drawn on ears.

  
“And I heard what you guys were talking about when you thought I was still downstairs. Shitty would be reading you the riot act if he were here right now,” Dex growls at all of them. “Except for you Bits, you're in the clear. But you? Shitty’d be so disappointed.”

  
Ransom and Holster avoid looking at Dex. Derek, however, does not. “You said you don't care but you obviously do--”

  
“I can't be the only one who thinks that sounds super hypocritical--”

  
“--What? Are you jealous? We're not married, Poindexter.”

  
“This whole week you've slept in my bed and we have a son together, even if that's over in two days. Can't wait for those two days to be up. I'm divorcing you,” Dex yells, and the room falls silent.

  
“You apologize to your son right now William Jerome Poindexter. You do _not_ say the d word in front of your child,” Bitty demands.

  
“I'm sorry DJ. Just because we fight a lot doesn't mean we don't love you, and it doesn't mean we're getting a divorce. Daddy just loses his temper easily,” Dex tells Derek Jr. in full sincerity.

  
“Your middle name is Jerome?” Holster blurts out.

  
“Yes, it's my pop’s name, so,” Dex huffs. Now is really not the time.

  
“I thought your dad’s name was William? You told me your parents call you Liam and him Will,” Bitty interjects.

  
Dex groans. “Give me a minute.” He pulls out and unlocks his phone, pulls up facebook, then finds a family picture. “These are my parents.”

  
They pass the picture around with varying reactions. Bitty’s eyes go wider than Dex has ever seen, and he whispers a small ‘oh goodness me.’ Ransom and Holster hold each other’s gaze for way too long before staring at the floor. And Nursey--he looks _so_ embarrassed.

  
The picture is a few years old, from thanksgiving of Dex’s junior year of high school. The four of them, Dex, his sister, and his parents, are sandwiched in on their couch. It's a tight fit, with two grown men and a teenage hockey player, but they made it work for the five minutes it took them to sit still and let Dex’s uncle take the picture. Dex is smiling in the picture, bigger than any of the SMH have ever seen, and so is the rest of his family.

  
“I feel the need to apologize for implying that you're homophobic,” Derek mumbles.

  
“I'm taking my son and I'm leaving,” Dex declares, pulling him away from Bitty. “I've had enough embarrassment for today. Just in case the picture wasn't enough, I'll spell it out for you. My parents are a same sex, interracial couple. Dad’s Will, Pop is Jerome. Thank you for your time, fuck you all.”

  
“Dex, come on, sweetheart, I know the boys weren't at their best behavior, but that's no reason to leave. I've got a pie coming out of the oven in five minutes,” Bitty soothes, petting Dex’s shoulders affectionately. “Here, sit Derek Jr. down.”

  
Dex wants to be angry and leave, but there's pie at stake, so complies, plopping back down at the table.

  
He thinks things can't get much worse, but he's very very wrong.

  
He's a little unclear about exactly what happened, but it involved music being turned on, Bitty dancing, and a loud splat.

* * *

“Dex!”

  
Dex hears Nursey, knocking incessantly on his door and calling his name, he does, but he's in mourning and doesn't want company.

  
“Bro. I just turned the doorknob and it's not locked. If you don't respond in the next thirty seconds, I'm coming in. Hope you're decent.”

  
Dex doesn't say anything. He should, so Nurse doesn't barge in, and yet he says nothing.

  
“I'm just here to leave my journal so maybe you'll read some of it,” Derek tells him. “I...you're really taking this hard. I know you were taking it seriously, but Derek Jr. was just a bag of flour.”

  
“That's such a shitty name,” Dex mutters. “I always said I wasn't going to name my kids after anyone, because we really don't need a William J. Poindexter the fourth. And then you just _had_ to name him Derek Jr.”

  
“Just, read the journal,” Derek says again “Or don't, whatever. For the record, I wouldn't actually name our kid Derek Jr.”

  
With that, Nursey leaves, and Dex is alone again to wallow in his sorrows of the accidental death of his pretend son at the hands of said son’s grandmother. There's a tiny voice in the back of his mind that says he's just sulking because Derek won't be sleeping in his bed anymore, but he's actively ignoring it.

  
Stupid Nurse. None of this would be happening at all if he hadn't written about Dex in his stupid book. Speaking of…

  
Nursey’d left it on Dex’s desk. He argues with himself and somehow loses, resulting in him getting up and grabbing Nursey’s journal. He leafs through the pages a few times. This is stupid. He should throw this piece of trash into the river and forget about it.

  
Why then is he reading it? He goes back to the first page, the one that started it all. In purple ink, at the top the page, _William J. Poindexter_ taunts him. In what is definitely a different pen above it, there's a note that says ‘I found out that J is for Jerome.’ Dex continues reading and finds that _William J. Poindexter_ is not the heading for the poem itself, but apparently an entire series, all there in the leather bound notebook. The title of this particular poem is ‘Stars’.

  
Dex knows nothing about poetry, but this is pretty straight forward. It's comparing freckles to stars, then it talks about other types of stars, stars in eyes and the type you see when someone kisses you, and wanting to see those stars. There are tiny stars drawn all over the page as well, in the same color as the poem.

  
So, that's not what he was expecting.

  
He turns the to the next page, which is a piece titled ‘Fire’. It's all about passion and anger. It's about how the two can be confused, intertwined, about the type of passion the author feels for his muse.

  
It goes on like that for several pages. Some other titles include ‘Hands’ (parts I, II, and III--he's really got a thing about hands), ‘Bruises’, ‘Amber’, and ‘Screams’. The most recent poem is called ‘Flours’, a clear play on words and...a tribute to Derek Jr.? What the fuck? Derek Nurse may try to act all detached, but he's a big softy, and very much attracted to Dex (and his hands).

  
Dex needs to find Nursey, like, right now. He grabs up his keys and his phone, along with the journal, and bolts out the door--

  
And right into Nursey. He's sitting on the ground in front of Dex’s dorm, so Dex trips over him the second he gets the door open. “What the fuck, Nurse? Were you waiting for me to finish your dumb journal?”

  
“No?” Derek says, but he's not convincing anyone. “...yes.”

  
“So you like me,” Dex spews out tactlessly as he stands up. “You _like_ me, you want to _kiss_ me, you want to _hug_ me.”

  
“I didn't know you liked Miss Congeniality,” Nursey says dumbly.

  
“And no one else needs to know, or else I'll have to watch it with Holster and I hate watching movies with Holster. He won't shut up long enough to enjoy it,” Dex tells him. He extends his hand to pull Nurse up and absolutely does not think about all the things Derek has written about his hands.

  
“So are you still mad at me?”

  
“I'm always mad at you,” Dex snorts. “But over this specific instance, no, I’m not mad at you. I'm really shocked that you can write that much just about my hands.” Aaaand he's thinking about it.

  
“If it, um, bothers you, I can stop. Ok maybe that's a lie I don't think I can stop,” Nursey mumbles.

  
“No, no,” Dex stammers, “don't, don't stop.”

  
Nursey looks at him funny, then he smiles. “You think I'm _gorgeous_ , you want to _kiss_ me, you want to _date_ me,” he sings.

  
“I do, though. Like, I really really want to date you.”

  
Nursey steps close to Dex. “We’re kind of doing this backwards. Aren’t you supposed to date and then have a kid?”

  
“Everything about you is backwards,” Dex laughs. “So we're doing this, huh?”

  
“I’m in if you are.”

  
They're both already leaning in, Dex thinks, but he leans in more, and kisses Nursey with everything he's got. He's pretty pleased with himself when he pulls away and Nursey's out of breath.

  
“So, did you see stars?” Dex chirps.

  
“Shut up.”

**Author's Note:**

> Epilogue:
> 
> "Holster, you owe me $50, Ransom, $75 since you wagered that it would take two weeks," Lardo says smugly. The boys begrudgingly hand over the money.
> 
> "Pleasure doing business with you."
> 
> "I thought it was going to be slow burn!" Ransom complains.
> 
> "Look at all the fucks I give flying out the window."
> 
> \--
> 
> Y'all keep saying Tango is Johnson's meta successor, but PLOT TWIST it's actually my boi Christopher Chow
> 
> Hey I'd really like to see someone draw a bag of flour with Dex's face drawn on it lol


End file.
